“Television” unpublished
August 26, 2011
(This one’s from 2002. It’s one of the few from the period that are halfway coherent. It’s from one of my self-published chapbooks from the past.)
Television
The crucifix hangs from the ceiling by a shadow
Snow angels melt in the sunlight
The open smell of living rooms obscurity
The trance of visions perplexed by the television audience
Late at night
No assembly of thought
Open admiration for decline
Open the windows and watch whores in the mud
Pleasuring the pigs, on blank moons
Laws are only in the budget for so long
The rumor is that you tried to
Behold the existence of time
In your credit weathering freeloading area
Some stranger with a Benjamin Franklin face
I wrote my name
Seven times in the sand
It was still there a million years later
Your gravestone peers out at me
Those cowardly eyes; faceless
Your pain is stone and your sorrow covered in moss
All your eyes tell me is your quiet desperation.
